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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920441">Sacrifices</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewda/pseuds/ewda'>ewda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Jesus Christ Superstar - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Suffering, Temporary Character Death, Tragic Romance, True Love, Unhealthy Obsession, Unresolved Romantic Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:40:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,853</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920441</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewda/pseuds/ewda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody knew there was no place for stupid carnal feelings in His life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jesus Christ &amp; Judas Iscariot, Jesus Christ/Judas Iscariot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sacrifices</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mary never pretended to have something more. From the very beginning it was crystal clear for her: whatever might happen, she wouldn’t become anybody but a devout follower. <br/>Of course, she loved Jesus, loved as no one did. A pure bright feeling, in some aspects even close to maternal, permeated her soul, constituted her nature. Indeed, there was something else. Yes, she melted, admired, adored and worshipped like many others, but not everyone was ready to give Him all they had, rip their hearts out, choke with blood but still smile blissfully while laying their selves at His feet. Apparently, nobody was ready to deny themselves for only one short day under these intent blue eyes. <br/>Mary knew perfectly this side was poisoning, killing her, slowly destroying her soul, but she couldn’t help it. Her mind kept repeating that such love was reckless and false, that this pure bright feeling couldn’t get along with wild desire, but her heart stubbornly outshouted the sanity’s voice, pounding deafeningly on the ribs, tearing from the chest, demanding blindly to fall down before Him in a fit of pain only to prove its sincerity.<br/>Sometimes it seemed impossible Mary continue fighting herself but she had to. No matter how hard from time to time she might want to give up under the weight of her own wishes, she realized better than anyone that Jesus wouldn’t accept and suffer the same burden. There was no place for stupid carnal feelings in his life. He was an amazing eagle, in his greatness hovering far away in the feathery edge of clouds. She was only a chickadee, which could nothing but to trample the ground with her tiny legs, and to look sorrowfully at the sky-blue dome overhead, and at times to fly up in a sudden impulse on a hundred feet, but not higher. <br/>However, despite everything there was a glimmer of hope inside Mary, a faint hidden faith that once her happiness should be possible, once she would become free from this burden. Crowds of people were creeping around, but she had always been lonely, and Jesus had been lonely, and it seemed that nobody understood his heartsickness better than she did. Sometimes Mary allowed herself to imagine that they were destined to each other, just now was not the time. Sometimes Mary allowed herself to think that He realized it as well and looked at her different as if they shared this little untold secret of mutual love. <br/>These harmless dreams bestowed her strength to withstand, endure, survive, believe that one day she could spread her tiny chickadee’s wings wide enough and fly as far as the sun shone. That’s why it was especially unendurable to see Him, making love with one of the apostles in empty room. <br/>It was wrong at every level Mary could understand. Except the throbbing from heart through the veins “he’s mine, it should have been me, I was willing to do everything, I should have given you all I have, I desired to be everything for you, look at me, it is I”, her mind meekly slipped the thoughts about Him being a son of God, That being forbidden, Them being men. <br/>And still it looked like sin less than anything. She waited for a stroke of lightning, earthquake, every other sign of Lord’s disfavor. But nothing happened. <br/>Mary restrained the universal coldness absorbing her, swallowed the unshed tears, tried to keep the aching heart in chest. She was certain she would die right here and now because of such ridiculous reason as her own inflamed emotions. As another wave of disbelief raised inside of her and crashed with splashes upon the sharp rocks of discovered scene, Mary stood frozen like a statue, pale and lifeless. And stupidly she continued watching, wincing in unbearable suffering, but staying unable to go away.<br/>It looked like sin less than anything and Mary couldn’t find the suitable name for this.<br/>It seemed impossible, but there was not an ounce of lust in smooth motions. Movement – broad palms slid tenderly over strong shoulders. Movement – the body arched slightly, leaned upwards and sank slowly back on the surface. Movement – turn of the head and trustingly opened, chiseled neck. Movement – lips merged in a mere touch, uncomplicated and strikingly pure. Movement – and they clung to each other as though for the last time.<br/>Soft, converging lines, perfects shapes, barely perceptible glow of the golden skin, long dark locks of hair, spread out over the floor – if this moment was locked in a picture, it would have been priceless. They seemed to be created for each other, perfect match but so different – like two parts of the greater whole, they were merging into something absolutely beautiful.<br/>Mary vaguely felt her own lips quivering and suppressed a sob. In the room there was such dense silence without any disturbing groan or sign that it seemed to be an illusion, as if they were separated from her by some heavenly dome that blocked sounds. And then she clearly realized she was mistaken while considering their flock as a group of equal small birds. In their ranks there came the mysterious creature, only one in its kind, capable of not only fly far in the sky but also overtake the eagle and hover with him side by side. <br/>A glimpse of coal-black eyes, so unexpectedly serious, pointed right at her – and stupefaction withdrew immediately. Mary swung back as a whirlwind behind the door, shutting it in a way that perfect silence wasn’t broken, even though she knew it was too late. <br/>Was it a fatal mistake or a supreme union, she’d already disrupted their togetherness, she’d been caught. Kneeling down just beside the threshold, Mary bit her lip until it bled to repress the cry. No matter how what was behind the door looked, it felt painful. So painful that nothing else was left. For a long time she sat here, leaning with her shoulder against the wall, not hearing anything, but knowing what was inside. Sometimes the heart plunged into last convulsions and she dug her short fingernails into stones, wept quietly, smearing tears on her face by sleeve. <br/>Till late night she stayed on one place surrendering to her grief and they never showed up from behind the door. Mary wandered swaying towards her room, unwillingly continued thinking how now they might be dreaming in each other’s arms under the blind look of the God, so fearless and happy. And she, devastated, weary, misled – so unjust. <br/>The next day nothing changed and it hurt even more. <br/>In the morning probably everybody asked Mary what had happened. She only covered her red swollen eyes and answered in a dry lifeless voice that everything was all right. A few times she even had enough strength to stretch her lips in a ghostly smile. There was nothing left of her while Jesus looked almost better than before. <br/>All that seemed to be a horrible mockery of fate. And when He said with his usual warm tone ‘Hello, Mary’ – it was beyond any possible human power. She thought she would shatter into ashes just on the street in front of everyone. <br/>During the regular meeting she sat on the very edge, hugged her knees and stared absently at the floor. She wished she could feel anything, even if it was the devastating pain, but not this harassing emptiness. Nobody asked questions. <br/>Perhaps, for the first time Mary regretted she had become one of His followers. She didn’t listen to the preaches any more, didn’t speak, most in the whole world desiring to fly above this place and travel where only chickadees lived, where she would be needed. Occasionally, she collected the pieces of her bravery and examined the apostles fluently, not hoping and waiting for nothing. <br/>Jesus, so calm and high, might not know about her presence at that night. In his eyes the unchanged confidence and catching peacefulness shone, and however much Mary wanted, she couldn’t blame him. The little, still alive part of her strove to defend, justify, rescue beloved man from the defilement. Because it was Jesus. But then at his right hand – the only one who was allowed to stay amazingly close to the sun and not be burnt. <br/>With a bored air Judas slowly fiddled a strand of his long hair with fingers. A few times he glanced at Mary and she shuddered, hiding her eyes, because no lame excuses were supposed to be here. He saw her. In spite of that fact, his face expressed neither anger nor embarrassment nor guilt. Only familiar hard expression and total indifference in his eyes remained frozen. With a kind of satisfaction Mary felt wrath boiling inside of her, bit her lips and couldn’t imagine at all what might have attract Him in this man. <br/>Indeed, more painful was comprehension that, according to everything, only she had changed radically during the previous night. A nasty guess swarmed in her head. There was no way to get rid of this thought: they act normally just because it hadn’t been for the first time. <br/>The magnificent performance. Not a single detail revealed they were bound by something greater. Not a single unnecessary glance, word or touch. Mary wondered how long it had been kept in secret from others, and stings of jealousy mercilessly hurt her even deeper. At least it wasn’t emptiness.<br/>After the meeting Mary rushed to get a little fresh air when Jesus caught her wrist softly and asked to delay. She could do nothing else but nod fearfully and tell herself that in such situation it was normal – feel as if the body was being turned inside out. <br/>“Are you all right?” The voice sounded so cozy and caring, the glance was filled with tenderness. <br/>With all her heart Mary wanted to believe that these feelings meant something more, that they still had a chance, that all of it had been a terrible nightmare. But pain in her chest was far too realistic, and recollections and the figure with stone-like face, lurking behind Jesus’ shoulder. <br/>“Yes,” she answered with expressionless tone. Told Him a lie for the first time.<br/>“I might be able to help with…”<br/>“Please, don’t say anything,” Mary interrupted wearily, pulling her hand away from his and taking a few steps back. “Don’t.” <br/>Jesus glued his saddened eyes to her. There was nothing more to say and that silence started getting unbearable. It pressed from every side. Judas came closer to him, pulled his sleeve childishly and whispered something in his ear. Now they looked at each other – blue eyes were anxious and black were soothing. These shades of emotions seemed so uncharacteristic for them that for an instant Mary truly saw a strong thread glowing from heart to heart. <br/>She clutched her shoulders in order not to fall to pieces here and took a shuddering breath. <br/>“And what if I tell the others?” Voice like a squeak sounded from somewhere far away. It took her one whole minute to recognize her own voice in it. Mary had already regretted that she had opened her mouth, because this question had got out only due to envy and jealousy, dark wrong feelings. She knew she would never do anything that could harm Him in any possible way.  <br/>“Even if you told somebody, no matter,” Judas spoke for the first time and his tone perfectly matched the face: indifferent, icy. “We take what’s left. In two days everything’ll be over.” <br/>Mary shivered as if the cold wind blew in reality and glanced at Jesus skeptically. He warmly smiled to her and explained totally serenely:<br/>“In two days I will be seized by soldiers and then die.” <br/>As if there weren’t enough burdens on Mary’s fragile shoulders, this simple phrase and ordinary intonation overwhelmed her and buried under the wreckage of her hopes. Her face contorted painfully, and in a moment she was already weeping in Jesus’ welcoming embrace, thinking about nothing else but her own destroyed feelings and her dear’s destroyed life. <br/>After a while Mary quieted and was struck with another unmanageable weight of enormous speech about where and why it would happen. And, Heaven, couldn’t anybody figure out anything better than this? Did the Lord really need such a bloody sacrifice to forgive humanity? Jesus murmured something about mission, the highest purpose, the fact that he had been prepared for his duty since the very childhood, had been waiting for the death. That he couldn’t live any other way. But these were just words that did nothing to lighten the revealed future. <br/>Mary pulled back and looked at them differently now. Her lips started quivering again. It scared. Now she clearly saw the distinction between chickadee and this strange foreign bird and why she was not allowed to stay that close, unlike Judas. <br/>Mary was ready to sacrifice anything for her beloved person but she could never sacrifice him. <br/>She would never give up on him because of some abstract good. Even in case it would hurt Him perpetually, even if He would go mad after persistent desperation and guilt, she couldn’t find strength to take her heart and tear away the man who had become the part of it. But Judas stood in front of her and looked frankly and directly while not a single feature of his serious face expressed any feeling. Such good self-control made Mary wonder unwillingly, whether he loved at all. <br/>“Two days,” he repeated dispassionately. <br/>Allotted time passed momentarily. The news about Jesus’ sentence must have ruined her even more, although seeming as horrible as ever could be, but in an incredible way it brought only relief. The part of burden had finally been lifted from Mary’s shoulders, and with a faint joy she understood that there was no more these heart desires, burning and corroding her soul. <br/>Jealousy, rage, blinding addiction to Him – all of that left her alone at last. It was another miracle of His and the long-awaited hope rose ahead. It was not that piece of mutual love that Mary had carefully kept and cherished, but different anticipation that illumined her life like the brightest dawn. Suddenly she decided to survive after every trial and not to die under the ruins. <br/>Rumors were spreading extremely fast, and Mary managed neither to realize nor to accept when this abominable word “betrayal” punched her just in the solar plexus. She wished she could cover her ears and flee away but another part of her felt this mistrust scratching in her head. Again she recollected composure and control, continued doubting honesty of the man’s feelings.<br/>Until once at night Judas, looking like a shadow, knocked on her door and in whisper asked to come in. <br/>He only stepped in the room and all former confidence and invulnerability drained from his face and revealed pining inside. Jesus’ death left him dark circles under eyes, hunted look and deepened wrinkles. A gaping wound might now be noticed – the piece of heart that had been torn off. Mary saw how it was unceasingly bleeding.<br/>She wanted to speak or ask anything and pull him out of this condition but she didn’t dare. She only tried some words on the tongue but none of them seemed right. She didn’t know what to do. Judas’ eyes were completely dry, although she would feel better if he cried. She recalled by chance how his black hair had shimmered on the floor in that room – now it appeared dull as if paint on the picture had faded with time. <br/>In one night Judas seemed to age several dozen years. At daybreak he went away without saying goodbye. In the afternoon his body was found in a noose not far from the town, cold already. <br/>Mary again sensed how unreal events had been, but now from the different perspective, not spoilt by some disastrous feelings. It was unnatural – two lively people, loving each other, had lost everything in one moment. And once more she returned to memories about that night, saw all the sublimity and perfection but she wasn’t drowning in despair any more when tried to understand why they’d been doomed to die so dreadfully, why did God needed Jesus’ death, where had Judas found such fortitude to sacrifice him with his own hands. However hardly Mary strove to find answers, she couldn’t. <br/>Jesus turned out to be not a common bird, but real Phoenix and after two days he resurrected. With tears of joy and relief he viewed mankind that was forgiven thanks to the great cost of his own life. He practically radiated happiness. Nobody had ever seen him like that. Certainly, Mary was more than glad but some terrible feeling worried her. Soon she finally realized the reasons of this strange sensation and her role in the whole story. It would take all the courage she could find in herself. <br/>Because when Jesus, glowing with eagerness, would ask her where Judas was, it should be Mary who would have to tell him the truth.</p>
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